


The Flame Recruit

by Remix_Sakura



Series: A Fire Grows Inside Her [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Immortal Flames, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5564011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remix_Sakura/pseuds/Remix_Sakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruruhi has dreamed of serving in the Immortal Flames since she was a young child. Now that her time has come, her path is fraught with challenges, not the least of which are the prejudices held against her family by other recruits. But she is also blessed with new friends, exciting new challenges, and the chance to find out who she really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the beginning of Ruruhi’s exciting adventures in the Immortal Flames! This is kind of her “main scenario,” so there are many more chapters in store.
> 
> Ruruhi is an OC / RP character of mine. She grows up in future democratic Ul'dah ~10-20 years from the present day. Big sister to Lilira Lira, and eldest child of Ul'dah's biggest power couple. This story takes place when she is fifteen years old.
> 
> More about this scenario can be found on Ruruhi's RP blog at: http://ruruhi.tumblr.com/tagged/ruruhi-ruhi
> 
> No warnings other than that I still don’t know much about how militaries work, so bear with me on that.

Ruruhi never thought she’d be so _terrified_ in this moment.   
  
She had dreamed of this since… forever, it felt like. At least since she had first seen soldiers training in the desert, when she was little. She had waited so long, to be old enough, to be ready enough. So now that her dream was finally coming true… why was she so nervous?   
  
_I must needs be strong. For Papa, and Mama, and Lilira… and everyone in Ul’dah_.   
  
Of all the values their parents worked to instill in Ruruhi and her little sister Lilira, it was that they must spend their life in service to Ul’dah and its people. Just because Mama had stepped down as sultana, all those years ago before Ruruhi was born, did not absolve them of the responsibility to follow, in spirit, their ancestors in the Ul dynasty. _For there will always be a great need for generous, kind, and selfless people_ , Mama had said.   
  
Perhaps Ruruhi would be just a _little_ less nervous, if she could not feel so many eyes looking at her.   
  
Not from the other recruits, of course — they were all lined up in more than a dozen neat rows, standing as tall and straight as she. But instead, it was from the officers patrolling the rows, there to make sure the recruits kept their posture right and their attention forward. She bit her lip, uneasy as she kept herself from staring back. She knew what they must have been thinking. _What is General Raubahn’s daughter going to do_.   
  
They all must have found out that this class of recruits would be the one she’d be joining. How else would they know? It’s not like she particularly _looked_ like her father; she was less than half as tall as he, for one thing. But there _was_ her choice to put her hair in braids. …Well, what was wrong with that? It was very practical. She wasn’t going to have time to deal with it while in training. Besides, they looked different; though nearly always tied back, they were narrower, longer and more flowing. Despite her tomboyish ways, she still wanted to look like a girl.   
  
She nervously fiddled with the cowrie shell laced in the end of one of her braids. At least, until getting a strong look from an observing officer, then hurriedly resuming her straight pose. That was always a nervous habit of hers, so much that the shell had already been rubbed to a smooth shine.   
  
Ruruhi had always been bothered, much more than her sister, that people made such a big deal out of her being…well, her parents’ daughter. Try as she might to keep it unknown. Not that she was ashamed, not in the slightest, it was just that… most people treated her _differently_ if they knew. They stopped being genuine, and she hated disingenuous people. Her choice to join that selfsame institution which her father was so famous for leading, though he had been formally retired for some time, had raised a few eyebrows from her friends.   
  
Yet, it was the only choice that had ever made sense to her.   
  
Suddenly, a male voice rung up, booming across the room.   
  
“Listen up, recruits! Every one of ye, listen carefully. …Ye’ve come here today, to the Hall of Flames, from every walk of life imaginable. Once maybe ye were a peaceful crafter, or a hard-nosed sellsword, or a starveling in the street, or even the whelp o’ some noble merchant. Some of ye was born here in the desert. Some of ye came here from across the realm, but now, ye call Ul’dah your home. Ain’t none o’ that matter now. None o’ them differences means shit now. Every single one of ye are equals now. Yer all soldiers of the Immortal Flames.“   
  
Ruruhi tried to look over the heads of the row in front of her to see who it was that was speaking. But since she’d had the great luck to be lined up behind a Roegadyn man, it proved impossible. She could only get a few glimpses here and there. Who was this officer, anyway? She didn’t know the man’s face, or voice, or name. _Should_ she know it? She hoped he didn’t call on her to answer a question.   
  
"If yer here just fer the coin and the hot meals, then I’m warnin’ ye. It aint’ worth it. Forsake it now and go be a bleedin’ Brass Blade, or better yet, an adventurer. That’s where ye’ll find your fortune and glory. Ye recruits get the shit meals, the shit barracks, and even shittier pay.”   
  
The officer stood a little taller, and Ruruhi could finally see his face. It was hard as stone with fierceness, and with pride. “Those of ye here today that’ll survive in the Flames, will only survive ‘cause ye want more than anythin’ to serve Ul'dah. This republic, and everythin’ she stands for. Her walls, the bleedin’ sand at her feet, and especially her people. With every wakin’ moment, and with everythin’ you’ve got in ye, and if need be, with yer life. …If that ain’t true for ye already, yer free to turn in yer uniforms and leave.“   
  
Ruruhi couldn’t help but grin a little as her heart swelled with pride. No one in the room would be more dedicated to serving Ul’dah than she.   
  
“No one of ye’s turnin’ back? Good. Yer dismissed. Now get to the bleedin’ barracks and get some sleep. Ye better start thinkin’ of this place as home, and ye’ve got a shitload of work to do in the morning.”   
  
She finally allowed herself to let out a sigh of relief. At the very least, she had now made it through her first day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruruhi makes her first friend among the recruits, but also her first enemies
> 
> More about this character and scenario can be found at http://ruruhi.tumblr.com/tagged/background

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Heavensturn everyone!
> 
> Warnings: Slight foul language.

Shuffling along a torch-lit hallway behind the other recruits, Ruruhi rubbed her eyes and groaned. She hadn’t slept terribly well, and the sun hadn't even made its first appearance in the sky. She'd never felt a mattress so uncomfortable as the one in the barracks. Lumpy, worn, and filled with what felt like rush grass. But more than that, sleeping there had felt surprisingly... lonely. Had she really never, by this age, slept somewhere where her sister and her parents weren't somewhere nearby? 

Lying there, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position, she'd found herself wishing she could talk to Lilira. Tell her sister about all she'd seen and heard and felt. They'd spent countless late nights, as children and as teens, chatting away into the wee hours when Mama and Papa thought they were asleep in their own rooms. But it would be an entire turn of the moon before she could tell her sister anything. Recruits weren't permitted to have any communication with their families during their training.

Not that this had felt like _any_ kind of home, either. There hadn't been much free time to chat with the other recruits in the first day, and when there was, everyone seemed to be actively keeping to themselves. She'd wanted to stay up rather than going to bed, and at least observe the others a bit. Try to pick up on some clues about her classmates. But lights-out rules were strictly kept, and fatigue had quickly overtaken her, even on the lumpy mattress.

Perhaps that would change this morning. The recruits had gathered into a dining hall to pick up dented metal dishes with bread, cured meat, and porridge. It wasn't excellent food by any standard, but Ruruhi was never very picky. She did, however, eat a lot for her size. Her stomach groaned when she realized that she hadn't been given enough for a satisfying meal, and that she wouldn't be allowed another portion.

Ruruhi found herself an open stretch of bench, set down her tray, and scarfed down the food nonetheless. It seemed like a matter of seconds until it was all gone. From her peripheral vision, she found herself looking longingly at a hot bowl of porridge coming towards her. To her surprise, the bowl stopped in front of her. In her hungry daze, she hadn't even realized it was being carried by a Miqo'te lad, with dark blue eyes, a gray-brownish complexion, and hair the color of lavender blossoms hung in a ponytail. A Keeper, she thought.

"I don't suppose you'd have any more room on that bench for me."

She looked up at the lad while finishing her chewing. "O-of course."

Now that she had the opportunity, Ruruhi didn't find herself in the mood to talk, or even smile. She just toyed with her empty porridge bowl and spoon. She realized her loneliness was going to be tougher to alleviate than she’d predicted. She'd never liked meeting new people. Her defenses were built too strong. She had to first observe someone for a time, and see what they were like before deciding on their trustworthiness.

The Miqo’te lad, however, broke the silence first, shortly after stuffing the last piece of meat and bread in his mouth.

"Name's Ijah’ya Natsu. You can just call me Ijah."

She put on a brief, polite smile. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ruruhi."

"Ruruhi… what?"

That was something she'd never been asked before. "Ruruhi Ruhi, of course. What else would it be?"

Ijah'ya widened his eyes and smirked. "...Really? So, your surname is just half your forename over again?" 

She narrowed her eyes and frowned. "You're not from around here, are you?"

He chuckled. “I’m just messing with you. I have in fact met Lalafell before. It was a jest."

Ruruhi looked deadpan. “And you thought of me as someone you could _mess_ with?"

Ijah'ya laughed again. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You looked so serious, that I thought I might try to have you crack a smile. But I see that plan has backfired."

Ruruhi's expression remained utterly unamused.

“Anyway..." He cleared his throat. "Actually, I’m not from around here. South Shroud, originally. How'd I end up here, you ask?"

She had asked no such thing, but silently allowed him to continue. 

"Too many older brothers, you see. Not many prospects for an eighth son out there. So I left the forest, went to Gridania. Tried adventuring for a time. Got to know the city, a few places, a few people. Then I wandered a little more south. Been here for over a year. Grown to rather like it in Ul'dah. So I thought I’d look for some rather more long-term employment."

Ruruhi nodded, and felt herself relax a bit. Unless he was putting on a great show of it, he didn't seem to be a bad kind of guy. His jest at her hadn't been malicious, and could... possibly be forgiven.

"Gridania, you said... Have you trained in a guild?"

Ijah'ya smiled sardonically. "Apparently they thought I was good enough, or in tune with the forest enough, to be a conjurer. But they rather misliked my lack of commitment to actually remaining within the boundaries of the forest. Let's just say, I don't expect a warm reception should I choose to show my face there again." He turned sideways on the bench to face her.  "Do you know much about Gridania?"

Ruruhi nodded curtly. Actually, she knew quite a bit about Gridania. More than she ever cared to know, really, but Lilira had made her read all those books about it. She'd visited _many_ times. She'd trained in each of their guilds herself -- except for the Conjurer's Guild, actually, as spells were more Lilira's thing. She'd even visited with the Elder Seedseer, personally, more times than she could count. 

She knew quite a bit about… all of Eorzea actually. She'd been to _every_ city, and personally visited with  _all_ their leaders, and trained in _all_ their guilds. But it wasn't the sort of thing she went around telling people.

"And you? Have you trained in a guild"

Despite still feeling rather guarded, Ruruhi couldn't help but give a genuine smile. "I'm a gladiator." 

But there was so much more to it than that. She'd been a gladiator since she was five; ever since, she'd spent nearly all her free time practicing, whenever she wasn't playing with her sister. She'd hated doing schoolwork and chores, not so much because they were hard or boring, but because they cut into her training time. And she'd had no shortage of teachers to guide her. The Gladiator's Guild, the former Sultansworn, and of course, her father, who'd been a champion when he was young.

Gods, there was just so much about herself she just couldn't _tell_  anyone.

Suddenly, Ruruhi noticed out of her periphery a strangely hushed set of voices, from a group of recruits that were also strangely peering in her direction from an adjacent bench. She looked narrow-eyed in their direction, but by then they'd stopped looking.

Ijah'ya looked in the same direction as well. "Is something amiss?"

She turned back to the table. "I don't think so. I hope not."

It was barely moments after that the same group started again, but this time giving up all pretense -- pointing, giggling, snickering right at her.

What was the meaning of this? She’d done nothing to provoke them. She’d never even spoken to them. Whatever this was, she would not let it stand. She dropped her metal spoon with a loud noise, marched to the other table, stood up as tall as she could, hardened her face, and crossed her arms. "If you have something to say to me, might you be so kind as to say it to my face?"

Turning slightly to face her, the meanest looking of the bunch, a Highlander lad who couldn't have been older than sixteen, just seemed to be… amused by her, rather than intimidated. “Whoa, whoa, calm down now. Ain't mean no offense. We’s just wonderin’ ... " He put on a smirk that was quite _obviously_ meant to offend. "...what a high born lady like you’s doin’ in the army with us lowlifes."

Ruruhi bit her lip angrily. Fucking hell. Of _course_ that’s what this was all about. Why had she even held out any hope that _anyone_  wouldn't know.

A Hellsguard lad sitting in the back piped up. “Yeah, isn’t she like, the princess of Ul’dah or something? Mom's the sultana?"

The Lalafell lass sitting next to him joined in. “I thought she was the old General’s kid."

The mean-looking Highlander broke in again. “Hah, we oughta call you the Flame Princess!"

…What in all the seven hells... _Flame Princess?!_ Since when was there _anything_  about her even remotely princess-like? 

The nonsense of it all apparently did nothing to prevent the group from finding the nickname uproariously funny.

She scoffed, exasperated, and put considerable effort into keeping her composure. She had to shout above the laughter to make herself heard. "I'm _not_ a princess, okay? That’s absurd. We don't even _have_ a sultanate any mo-"

"There you go with them fancy words.” Another of them, a Seeker lass, interrupted. “Must be all that fancy highborn schoolin’."

More voices chimed in. From nowhere, from everywhere. _Fucking wealthy bitch. Pretentious arsehole. Who does she think she is. Lousy rich-girl cunt._

Ruruhi huffed and made a pleading motion. “Come on, you heard the officer before, that doesn’t matter, we’re all equals no-"

It was no use. They weren’t even listening. More joined in. They were drowning out her voice. There were so many of them laughing, so many pointing, so many insults, so many angry eyes on her.

Ruruhi grit her teeth and fumed. She had no idea what to do. She was losing her composure, breath quickening in panic. The world seemed to be spinning around her, like it would cave in at any moment.

She hadn't even realized that Ijah had been watching the entire ordeal, face stern but calm, with eyebrows slightly raised. Finally, just at the moment where she thought she might scream in fury, he stood up, placing himself at her side, with a hand reaching down to her shoulder.

“I believe you’re quite done with your meal, aren’t you Ruruhi. Why don’t we go... clean up the barracks or something.” 

At first he only received a glare from her in response. But through her anger, she understood what he meant. As badly as it pained her, this was not a fight she could win. She had no other option but retreat. Without another look at her tormentors, she spun away and stormed out of the hall, leaving Ijah'ya to hurriedly clean up both of their plates. Her withdrawal only seemed to make their laughter louder. 

He had to break into a run to catch up with her afterwards. He was astounded at how fast she could walk on short legs. Minutes passed silently as they marched down the hallways to nowhere in particular. Ruruhi kept her hard gaze forward the whole time, not looking at Ijah'ya. She had no idea where the two of them were going, nor did she particularly care, as long as it was far away from the dining hall. She looked positively incensed, fists clenched, teeth grinding. But Ijah'ya saw that her eyes held a slight look of pain, that told him she was putting on such a show of being angry in order to prevent herself from crying.

“Ruruhi..." He finally broke in. "If you don't mind me asking… is there a… _reason_ those fools think you’re a princess?"

Far from earning him more of her wrath, it seemed to do a great deal to relieve her. "Thank the _gods_ , at least there's _someone_ who doesn't know."

"What, that you're a secretly a princess?"

"I am _not_ , didn't you hear?!” She huffed, exasperated. Did this man never know when to stop joking? "No, it's just that… my parents..." She sighed heavily. "They're... pretty famous in Ul'dah, you could say..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though Ruruhi has now made a friend, her enemies just won’t back off. How will she react this time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The continuing adventures of precious Flame bb- I mean… our young Flame-in-training.
> 
> Warnings: Profanity.

 The practice yard out in the Thanalan desert seemed to throw up a cloud of dust with every step they took. Though it was well before midday, the desert sun was already sending visible waves of heat up from the hard-baked ground. These were the conditions that would test the recruits on their first day of martial training.  

Most practiced with the sword and shield. Many others held worn leather cesti in their fists, and a few others held staves or brass cudgels. There was even a bow, and a lance, and two axes to be seen. Some of the recruits had experience with the weapons they held. Many more had never held a weapon before, but eagerly wished to learn. Around each group of recruits stood an officer, instructing and coordinating their sparring exercises. Though the groups of thamaturges-in-training kept a considerable distance from each other, and from the rest of the groups groups, apparently in an effort to prevent unnecessary injury from stray fireballs.

It was much like the practice yard that had inspired Ruruhi to join the Flames all those years ago. 

Yesterday had been a miserably rough day. She'd been publically mocked for doing... nothing — just for being who she was. Forced to retreat in shame. Worse, she'd then had to _tell_ someone about herself. 

She had just felt so _worn down_ by the ordeal in the dining hall. She'd still felt miserable even after Ijah managed to sequester the two of them back to the barracks, unnoticed. She’d lost her composure, her confidence, and might have remained there, frozen still – but then she’d had to be saved by someone she’d only just met. It was absolutely shameful.

When Ijah had asked Ruruhi about the truth of their accusations — he hadn’t even pressed her, he just wanted to understand — she hadn’t the energy left to be angry, or wary, or to put up any walls. Quite the opposite; she’d let it all pour out of her, of her own will, as he simply listened. She’d never done such a thing before, but… perhaps, she just felt the need to actually _trust_ someone for once. So, despite every long-held instinct that told her never to tell anybody _anything_ about herself, she'd ended up telling Ijah nearly everything. About her family. About her childhood. About her dream, however silly it sounded to say out loud, to fight for Ul'dah. 

He’d certainly been… _surprised_. Amazed, perhaps. He’d heard about Nanamo Ul Namo and Raubahn Aldynn, of course. They were practically living legends, and not just in Ul'dah. But, by some strange miracle... he didn't actually treat her any differently once he knew. Didn't change his speech or his mannerisms to suddenly be more polite, or more reserved, or more hostile. He didn’t react much at all, with how much he was just listening, and letting her share with him.

He was, however, curious as to what her family was like. It was surprisingly difficult for her to describe people she’d seen nearly every day of her life before enlisting. She thought of Lilira as a dreamer, a bookworm, a chatterbox, outgoing, and a little naïve, but very sweet. She thought of her mother as wise, compassionate, patient, caring, and of course, extraordinarily beautiful. She thought of her father as serious, kind, noble, strong, and overall just the greatest ever.

They'd talked so much that both of them were severely late to the morning's briefing. But he'd gotten her out of trouble yet _again_ , by making up a story to the officer about how Ruruhi hadn't been feeling well after breakfast, and that he'd helped her back to the privy, and that she might not quite be as attentive as usual today, but that she was sure to be feeling better within a few hours.

It _was_ true that she felt completely out of sorts for the rest of the day; she barely remembered anything the officers said at the briefing. Something about their duties as recruits, something of codes of conduct and protocols, and of how to address their superiors. Something that was surely going to get her in trouble for not remembering.

Well, no matter. Ijah knew about her now, but at least he'd heard it straight from her.

Today, Ruruhi didn't let any of that worry her. Today, she was afforded the opportunity to do what she loved best. Train. _Fight_. Be outside in the sun. Hot as it was, she'd gotten rather used to it in her lifetime, and her Dunesfolk eyes made her much less sensitive than some of her others to the bright light. Being able to practice again cleared her head and lifted her mood immensely.

She supposed she should have held back, not made it so obvious that there was a vast difference in skill between her and any of the other gladiators-in-training. But in her enthusiasm to be training once again, she found it hard to contain. Far from holding back, she was showing them her absolute best. Focusing on perfection in every form, every stance, every attack and defense. 

Rarely, however, had she ever trained in a group like this. What amazed her was that, for aspiring soldiers, many of her fellow recruits seemed rather… timid. Holding back, making small movements, as if the thought of attacking another person frightened them. Nearly all, especially those inexperienced with the sword, clearly could benefit from a few simple pointers of the basics. So she started showing them what she knew, correcting their form here and there, showing them how to attack in combinations. She went so far as to act as instructor a few times, pairing off the other recruits in her group, and running them through sets of practice drills, when their instructor was too occupied to notice. Most, rather than seeing her as bossy, were appreciative of her help. Though she received a few defiant glares as well. _No matter, as long as it’s hate that I actually deserve._

One Midlander woman, who looked a bit older than the others, smiled at her with a small salute. ”Thank ya, lassie, for the pointers. Never realized there was so much to this swordfightin’ stuff. How’d you get so good, anyway?"

She grinned proudly, but not too proudly, and shrugged. "I've practiced a lot."

Suddenly, a loud voice interjected behind her. “Bullshit. I bet yer daddy taught ye everythin' ya know."

Ruruhi dreaded to even turn around and face her accuser.  _Oh gods… not again..._

It was that same damn Highlander asshole who’d acted as chief heckler in the dining hall. He stood in a cocky pose, leaning on a brass sword with its point in the dirt. "Showing off all that fancy highborn trainin', eh? Ye think yer better’n us?"

She acknowledged him with only a glance over her shoulder. “…What are you talking abo-"

“Of course ye do, _Flame Princess_!"

“ ** _I am not a princess_**!” Ruruhi screamed with the fierceness of a wild jackal. She stood with her shield in a perfect defensive stance, as if it would somehow protect her from the blows of words. Her sword, however, was pointed straight at her accuser. Something in her, all of a sudden, had snapped.

**"I'm a fucking gladiator, you hear me? And you're a cowardly bleedin’ whoreson sack of toad shite who’d not know a sword if it sliced off his balls!"**

Every pair of eyes in the entire practice yard was now poised on her. She was too pissed off to be embarrassed about it. The practice sword bounced in her grip as she trembled with rage. Her breathing was ragged. She felt like she was going to explode. To burn up from inside. For the first time in her life… she had threateningly raised a weapon at another person.

But as soon as she realized it, the thought horrified her. This kid… he was a right nasty prick to be sure, but he was a Flame Recruit just like her. What purpose would it even serve, to hurt him? Did she really think she’d ever get away with such a thing?

She thought of a promise she’d made. More than half her lifetime ago, before she ever picked up a wooden sword, before she had hardly any inkling of what a sword really meant, but she made it with her whole heart nonetheless. _If you pick up a sword, child, you must always remember its purpose._   _To protect those that cannot do so for themselves. To protect what you love. To protect what is right.  ...Do you promise to always remember that, Ruruhi?_

She should have lowered the sword in shame. But... she had never been pushed this far before. She _did_ feel like she was being attacked by his words. If she was being attacked, she had to fight back. She couldn’t just stand there and take it. She had to do _something_. Had to make him see. Make them all see.

The standoff was broken when an officer, a Seeker woman with short red hair, dashed in and stepped between them, arms outstretched and hands flat up, as if anticipating having to physically block the two from attacking each other. She shot rock-hard glances at each of the two verbal combatants.

“You two. Get your armor off and go to my office. _Separately.”_

Her head shot around to face Ruruhi. "You first."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After losing her temper after days of unrelenting teasing, Ruruhi faces judgement before First Lieutenant M'hoana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a break from playing Patch 3.2 to finish a new chapter! With a shout-out to my other muse, a certain foul mouthed Admiral. ;)

Curled inward on the wooden chair and staring at the stone floor tiles, Ruruhi waited alone in the lieutenant's office. She was nearly trembling with fear of what could lay in store for her, after her reckless outburst in the practice yard. This anticipation… it was _torture_. It was worse to bear than even the teasing. This was _so_ very unlike her, to be so fearful, so sheepish… and that only frustrated her more. It seemed like the only thing holding her together was the old familiar habit of fingering the cowrie shell in her hair. Toying it between her fingers, smoothening the already glassy surface. As if it were some silent prayer to her patron deity. 

Half a lifetime she’d dreamt of being here, and it had only taken a her few days to screw it all up with her perpetually bad temper. Sure, she hated from the beginning that everyone, the recruits, the officers, had been watching her; but even knowing that, she’d gone and made herself look like a fool in front of all of them. She’d wanted to keep a low profile; but instead, she’d given herself a disgraceful reputation. Anyone who hadn’t hated her before surely did now. She was so _ashamed_ she could hardly stand herself. 

Gods, at least she'd remembered this officer's name. First Lieutenant M’hoana.

The door swung open suddenly, with the noise breaking Ruruhi out of her brooding and into the present. The lieutenant said nothing; she only calmly walked to her desk, pulled the chair out, and sat back with her hands tucked behind her head. She looked at Ruruhi with what seemed to be an amused smirk. 

"You've got a tongue as sharp as your blade, recruit. And you know enough cuss words to make a pirate blush."

Ruruhi answered quietly, looking towards the officer, but not really focusing her eyes on anything. "Y-yes, Lieutenant.” 

An answer so short was likely interpreted as uncooperative, but she could think of no other reply. Ruruhi knew it was true. Her beloved visits to Limsa Lominsa, on which Admiral Merlwyb never seemed to grasp the idea of "approriate for children," had done much to increase her vocabulary of colorful language -- thanks to those very same pirates.

Though she’d always managed to hide her... _coarser_ language in front of her parents, she knew how much they’d tried to convince her to reign in her temper. As far back as she remembered being able to speak, Ruruhi remembered her mother's gentle but firm scolding about being so blunt to total strangers, and her father trying to explain to her the value of tact and diplomacy. She suddenly felt guilty that she'd never really listened to them.

Lieutenant M’hoana sat up and leaned forward across her desk, chin casually resting on one arm. This time she looked at the young recruit with something more like… concern. 

"It bothers you, yeah? That they don't see you for you. That they just see you for your family."

Ruruhi would be delusional to think that there was a single Flames officer that _didn't_ know about her family. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling uncomfortable that someone she’d never met before had managed to read so closely into her feelings.

“Yes... Lieutenant." 

The officer gave a small nod that held no surprise at the recruit's answer. Ruruhi was still expecting a harsh scolding to come down on her any minute. It was the strangest thing, but… instead, Lieutenant M’hoana stood up from her chair, came across to the front, and just sat there, on the desk. Ruruhi sat up more in surprise than in respect. Whatever the officer might be trying to do, this arrangement did seem a lot more friendly.

"I want ya to understand something, kid.” She looked downwards at Ruruhi, not with a hard face, but relaxed. Maybe even sympathetic.

"These kids that join these ranks... most of 'em come from less than nothing, ya know. They don't like ya 'cause of the advantages you’ve had over them. Everyone else they’ve ever met in that position _did_ think they were better than ‘em, ‘cause they were upper class. Those kinds of kids've had to stick up for themselves so many times, they just make assumptions about everyone based on class. Then they become just as prejudiced as those what where prejudicing them in the first place."

Ruruhi took a few moments to think silently about what the officer had said. "I… I understand. I think. L-lieutenant. If I may speak… “ It was a bold request, but she had to show that she was really listening. “Uhm… I mean, I know that the Flames takes recruits from all walks of life. I know that many of them come here because they have no other option. I just thought… “ She sighed, taking on a bitter tone. “I thought that being dedicated and loyal was all that mattered. Whether you were poor or rich or whatever. But it’s not _like_ that, is it. All that matters is fitting in with everyone else, apparently. If you’re not like everyone else, you have no place being here."

Lieutenant M’hoana failed to join in on her bitterness, once again looking amused. “Yer goin’ and assumin’ that your bullies actually have the right of it."

Ruruhi looked up in perplexity, wondering what is was the officer meant.

“Maybe they’re the ones that don’t belong here, ya know? Not because they’re poor, but because they’re bullies. Distractin’ everyone instead of focusin’ on betterin’ themselves. Not understandin’ that we’re all on the same damn team, and there ain’t no use for animosity. Just look at 'em – whole lot fewer’n them than there was recruits who wanted yer help with trainin’ today. Nah, I don’t think yer a misfit at all."

This time, the Lieutenant looked at her downright warmly. “I think yer a good one, y’know, Ruhi. You coulda done whatever ya well liked with that sword arm of hours, but you're usin' it here in the Flames. Puttin' all that fancy trainin' to good use servin' the nation. More nobility in ya than in any high rollin’ merchant in the damn markets. That’s what I think."

Ruruhi let herself smile just a little, trying to show appreciation rather than embarrassment at the compliment. "Thank you, Lieutenant. That’s… very kind of you to say."

“Don’t let it get to yer head, eh?” the Lieutenant smirked. "Now, how to deal with all this bullyin’ huh? Well… the sad truth is… you’ll never convince those kids yer not a princess. Not with words. They’re too set in their beliefs. I know it sounds counterintutitive, but.. the only way to win the fight is to do nothin’ at all. Just ignore them. Don’t say nothin’ back. Don’t even let ‘em see you flinch. Let the words pass right over ya, without lettin' ‘em sink in, just like water on an adamantoise’s back."

_…Ignore them?_  Ruruhi blinked in confusion, straining to find some way to answer the officer. The thought made no sense to her. Surely doing nothing was only what cowards did. If you were strong, you always fought back. How was it… that there could possibly be another way?

“You’ve got got a fierce mouth on ya, kid,” the lieutenant went on. “So it ain’t gonna be easy to hold yer tongue against indignity. But just remember… ya may not be able to tell 'em the truth, but little by little, you’ll _show_  'em the truth. You’ll win the fight by being the best that ya can be, despite what anyone says. By not letting 'em gain one ilm on you. You’re gonna practice harder, study longer, do better at your missions, and outwit 'em at every turn. And in the face of such irrefutable proof, they’re gonna have to respect ya. That or they’ve got too little sense anyway that they won’t even last long enough in here to make Private. In the end, it ain’t about talent, but hard work. And workin’ hard is a choice — anyone can do it, but not everyone does."

The officer leaned forward and smiled. "You’re gonna show 'em, not tell 'em, what you really are. I just know ya will. Is that a promise, Recruit?"

_Show them…_ Yes, that’s how she could prove herself to everyone. By her deeds. She would be the best she could be — better than before. Work even harder. Do whatever it took. That was something she _knew_ she could do — she was never one to lack for determination.

Suspecting she’d been sitting there too long staring into space while taking it all in, Ruruhi nodded rapidly. “I… Yes, I promise, Lieutenant."

“Good. Then I’ll let ya off with… only a week of double chores."

Ruruhi sighed, and almost smiled. After all that worry, the punishment seemed like a relief. She hadn’t managed to ruin everything after all. 

Lieutenant M’hoana stood and made slowly for the door, looking at Ruruhi expectantly to follow behind. “Now I won't save ya again, ‘cause you've gotta learn to deal with it on yer own. But I will listen if ya want to come and talk. Ya know where my office is.” The officer stopped suddenly, looking as if she’d just forgotten something, then walked back to take a thick-bound stack of papers from the desk. "By the way, here's a copy of yesterday's briefing. I imagine you'll want to review it more thoroughly."

Ruruhi tried not to once again look ashamed, as the accepted the favor. “Thank you, Lieutenant."

“Well then, you’re dismissed, recruit.” The officer gave her a Flame salute and a smile. 

After such an ordeal, it was harder for Ruruhi to return the smile than the salute. _But who wants to avoid things just because they’re hard?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruruhi nearly resigns herself to a further life of isolation and alienation among the Immortal Flames recruits, until she discovers something extraordinary -- she's actually made a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thal's balls, has it really been two patches ago since I posted the last chapter? Oh well -- ALA MHIGO GET HYPE!

The recruits’ afternoon lesson was to be a demonstration on weapons. The Flame officers had made sure to group the recruits as to have them study weapons they had not used earlier — those they did not already have a penchant for. Learn how they worked, and learn how to disarm them. No weapon was a weapon when it was no longer in the wielder’s hand, after all, for it was the channeling of aether through a weapon which formed the basis of all of Eorzea’s martial disciplines.

For the duration of the lesson, Ruruhi stood with her eyes half turned to the floor in a pensive expression. Her body was present, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Not to mope over her punishment and admonishment; no, she had no more use for self-pity. Rather, she just needed to think.

When she'd first learned of the topic of the lesson, she’d clandestinely rolled her eyes, figuring there was no real need to pay full attention anyway. What was this one they were doing now — bows? She knew about bows. She’d already learned the basics of every weapon they were demonstrating, among several others. However, the thought gave her a pang of guilt in her chest, and she internally chided herself for thinking this way. That was the problem at the heart of all this, wasn’t it?

She had to be the only one among the recruits who could boast such a feat of weapons training. Who else among her peers could have travelled, more than once, to the five nations of Eorzea, and been personally taught by the masters of each of their guilds? She hadn’t even had to earn such a privilege. She’d just been _lucky_. From the day she was born, the eldest child of the most influential couple in Ul’dah, her life was set on an extraordinary path. She’d spent so long insisting, trying, to be the same as everyone else, that she’d never truly acknowledged how much she really was  _different_.

How could she _ever_ hope to fit in like this? How could her fellow recruits, her fellow soldiers, ever accept her as one of them? See her for _herself_ , and not just her parents’ daughter? Worst of all was that no one here could _understand_ what this was like — to be trapped in the shadows of greatness, to be seen as a reflection instead of a person. No one in the entire _realm_ could understand, save for Lilira, and their four cousins from Ishgard. But here, she would surely be forever an outcast. By fulfilling her dream of joining the Flames, she’d set herself on a path of loneliness and isolation.

In her brooding, Ruruhi spent a good long time thinking about what First Lieutenant M’hoana had said. _The only way to win is to do nothin’ at all. Let the words pass right over you... like water on an adamantoise’s back._

The Lieutenant certainly seemed to know what she was talking about in the matter; a person of such rank surely must hold some wisdom a girl of fifteen winters did not. _To_ _know in your heart that they who judge you are misguided fools_. Maybe that’s what Lilira always did — why she never got half so bothered when the same horrible things were said about her. Ruruhi would have to ask her when training was complete — if she ever managed to complete it. It was only her second full day, and here she was, missing her sister more than ever.

All her life, she’d felt so _angered_ by the prejudices that total strangers held of her. The accusations of the heckling recruits stung, but they weren’t things she’d never heard before. That she was entitled, spoiled, and prideful, just because her parents were important people. Perhaps it made sense to them — every other child of an influential Ul’dahn seemed to fit the stereotype. It was precisely the reason she’d staunchly refused to associate with those children when she was young, despite how it drastically reduced her circle of friends.

But it seemed that no matter how much Ruruhi had strived to embody none of those things, the insults still came. Whether whispered, or to her face. They had all simply gone to fuel her resentment, her defensiveness, her determination to never reveal anything about herself to anyone. Ultimately, it had grown to fuel her own self-isolation. Meeting someone who treated her with genuine respect and kindness was just too rare. Too small a chance to even risk bothering to try anymore. So she had given up on people. She’d built up the walls around her, trained herself to be nothing more than a soldier, so sure that the Flames would finally offer her the chance to prove everyone wrong.

But now, it seemed she needed a different sort of strength. To be calm, confident, and sure in her resolve. To not even _need_ the acceptance of her peers. To believe in herself, even if she was the only one who did.

 

* * *

 

After the conclusion of the weapons demonstration, the recruits were afforded a small period of rest, in anticipation of their last meal of the day. Most took to chatting amongst themselves in the barracks, or taking small naps in their beds. Though she surely must have needed a rest more than most, Ruruhi could do nothing to calm her mind as she lay fidgeting on the awkward straw mattress. At least if she pretended to sleep, she could avoid having to converse with anyone.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she suddenly snapped out of her thoughts long enough to realize that all the other recruits were long gone, and that supper was already well underway. With a frustrated grunt and an involuntary growl of the stomach, she dashed her way through the empty corridors to the the dining hall. She hadn’t even realized how hungry she was, having skipped the midday meal. There was always the chance there’d be nothing left if she arrived too late.

Upon entering, she saw that the hall was already bustling and vibrating with the noise of conversation. Yet luckily, she was able to slip in to the line of those still awaiting their meal. The dish was a stew of what seemed like eft meat, though of a much tougher cut than she’d had before. Though never a picky eater, somehow she ended up feeling far less of an appetite than anticipated.

For the remainder of the evening, there would only be chores for the recruits until lights out. Some had already started to clear the hall, mumbling complaints about what they’d been tasked with scrubbing and washing. Ruruhi, of course, would be doing double the usual, depriving her of any time at all to herself before the day’s end. Alas, there was nothing to be done about it. It might just give her more time to think as she worked. Yet… she had a strange feeling that she wanted to do one more thing before resigning herself to the evening’s labor. 

Forcing herself to take down the last bite of stew, she scanned around the room for a lavender ponytail, frustrated that she wasn’t able to see over more heads. She dared to simply stand up on the bench for a better view. Soon enough, she spotted Ijah'ya on the other side of the room — though strangely, he seemed to be without any dining companion.

_Why would he be alone?_ she wondered. _Surely, someone like him has no trouble making friends. Not like me..._

Ruruhi had no idea what she was even thinking when she left her seat to cross the dining hall toward him. Even as she stood, paralyzed, behind the bench where he sat, she hadn’t a clue what to do, or say. How to explain that she just wanted to talk to someone. 

Her problem was solved when he noticed her there as he stood to clear out his tray.

“Ruruhi!” His golden-yellow eyes opened in pleasant surprise. "You don’t look all too much the worse for wear. I’m guessing the thrashing the Lieutenant gave you was only verbal?”

She rolled her eyes, but let out a small laugh despite herself. This guy seemed to know how to make a joke out of everything. 

“Hey, yeah, I mean… I’m fine, really. I’ve got double chores for a week, but… I guess it could have been worse. ...If you’re done eating, I guess we’d better head off and get to it. But I was wondering… "

She shifted uneasily on her feet. Why was she feeling so… nervous?

“If maybe, ya know… there’s just a little time to take a walk. Get there a bit slowly."

It had been so long ago — back when she wasn’t so jaded — that she’d genuinely reached out to someone for friendship. She was _sure_ he would find the request annoying and burdensome.

Instead, he gave her the warmest smile. “I would be _delighted_ to have the opportunity to procrastinate on sweeping floors."

Ruruhi barely managed to restrain her sigh of relief. She couldn’t help but give a small smile in return. They walked leisurely beside each other, meandering down the stonework halls, slowly wandering away from the throngs of other recruits so that they might converse where no one else could hear.

“I do wonder what that Highlander oaf that started it all got as punishment,” Ijah’ya mused. He seemed to hesitate in thought for a moment. “Forgive me for asking. It’s just... it’s difficult to tell with Lalafell, you know. But you do seem rather young."

She wanted to huff at him for that comment, but she had no pride left in her at the moment. “I… just had my fifteenth nameday, less than a moon past."

“Fifteen, is that so? Surprised they let them in that young." 

“Actually, it’s the youngest age at which one can join.” But wait, why was _he_ asking all the questions? “Well, I mean, what about you? How old are _you_ , then?"

He looked a little coy, darting his eyes upwards. “Well, if you have to know… seventeen. Which I guess isn’t all that much more. Ah, but it just seems so _long_ ago that I turned fifteen summers. ...But that means you joined up at the first possible opportunity, didn’t you?" 

“Mmmm,” Ruruhi nodded. “It’s... all I’ve ever wanted to do."

“And now some bloody pricks want to tell you that you shouldn’t be here, accomplishing your dream." 

Ijah’ya put a hand on Ruruhi's shoulder from where he stood. It was not a gesture she would have expected, but it was not unwelcome. 

“Don’t you ever for a moment believe what people like that say about you. You’re _stronger_ than they are in character, aye, and that’s even more important than being stronger with a sword. It’s the kind of thing they’re looking for in the Flames, I believe. Hells, if you get promoted high enough… perhaps I should say _when_ , not if... then you’ll be able to put that sharp tongue to better use. Whip some unsullied young recruits into shape. They’ll know straight away never to mess with you. I’ll bet my tail you’ll even be teaching them the sword one day."

She smiled widely at the thought. She actually hadn’t thought much about where she would be _one day_. There were all sorts of ways, perhaps, to put her skills with the sword to use outside of combat. Maybe even put that difficult personality of hers to use.

“I… I guess it bothers me because… I’ve been telling myself my whole life that I’m _not_ different, I’m just a regular person like anybody else. But... I realize now that it’s not true. And it never _will_ be true. No one in Ul’dah has had the kind of life that I and my sister have had.” She let out a bitter laugh. “And here I am, lamenting about it. I should be giving thanks to Nald'thal for such luck. It’s just that… now I know for sure, I’ll always be _different,_ no matter what. Even if this is the place I’ve always wanted to be… I’ll simply never fit in here."

Ijah’ya listened quietly, keeping his eyes on her even as she gazed down at her own feet. He let several moments of silence pass before deciding on what to say. 

“Sure, your life has been unlike any other, but I wouldn’t call it different. I’d call it… extraordinary."

At this, Ruruhi raised her head back up to look at him, if only to listen better at whatever nonsense he seemed to be on about. Ijah'ya seemed rather pleased with this reaction, gesturing with his hands as he went on. 

“Besides, it takes more than an extraordinary upbringing to make an extraordinary person. It’s up to us, in the end, what we will become. To _be_ someone in our own right, to accomplish great things, to be respected, and to be happy besides… that's not something one’s parents can hand down, is it? It’s just as they told us on the first day. Where we come from doesn’t matter as much as where we take ourselves. Surely, we know that a person of strong will can bring themselves up from having nothing to being something, and someone of flimsier fortitude can come from something and end up being nothing, isn’t that right? We’ve all got a lot of work to do before we can say we’ve made something of ourselves. That includes you, Ruruhi Ruhi. So don’t you worry about how different life’s been in the past, and just worry about making your future extraordinary."

It felt like no one had ever talked to her like this, with such patience and caring and warmth — except for her parents. They had comforted her whenever she felt lost, especially her father. They had always given her sympathy and concern, but never let her wallow in her angst. Instead, they would always offer her something she could do about it. Some change, or some task, that with time could bring her back on the right path. They never forced her to do it, but she always took their advice and took action — it let her get back in control. Despite all they had given her, when it came to her path in life, Mother and Father had let her make her own decisions. Even as far as indulging her childhood fantasies of being a great sword fighter.

They’d given her a secure life, but more than that, they’d given her freedom. She wasn’t grown yet, but she was here, fifteen summers old, doing what she’d always wanted. Becoming a Flame Recruit — even if it hadn’t ended up being quite as she’d expected. Every dream she’d ever had, they’d given her all the support they could give, yet still made her work for it, even if it was within their power to hand it to her. She wouldn’t have had it any other way. She’d never appreciated all this until now. She owed it to them, for everything they’ve done, to make something of herself, to blaze her own path to greatness.

Ruruhi felt a wide smirk cross her lips. “I don’t think you’re _nearly_ old enough to be spouting out words of wisdom to people like that, and just expecting ‘em to listen. But… I suppose that’s not a terrible idea. Ya never know, I might just give it a try.” She was smiling so brightly, it was beginning to embarrass her, and she turned her head down for a few moments to compose herself. "What’ve you got tonight, anyway?"

“Actually... I lied just a little bit.” He grinned abashedly and rubbed his hair. "It’s scrubbing pots, not sweeping floors. So I’ve gotta go back the way we came. They’ll chew me out for being late, surely, but... it was worth it.”

She gave another smirk. “Not afraid to make trouble, I see.” Had he truly gone so far out of his way, even risked being chastised by the officers, just to talk to her?

Ijah'ya crouched low in front of her, knees bent in the way that always looked terribly painful, but that Miqo’te seemed to be able to pull off with ease. She could nearly, but not quite, look him in the eye without turning her head up. 

“If you want to talk next time, you don’t have to bother with thinking up any special introduction. Just, ya know, start talking in my direction. I’ll hear it, I promise. You’ve got a loud voice."

She struggled to find the words to say in response, even in retort to his jest. She managed an awkward smile and a quiet “Thank you,” before he sprang up from his crouch and continued along his way back towards whatever pots he had to scrub.

Ijah’ya couldn’t possibly have had an inkling of what her life had been like, yet still, in some way he seemed to understand. He’d shown her such kindness, it was almost like he’d been feeling what she felt in that moment. It was a pattern now, their talking to each other. In this strange place, there was one person who saw her for who she was. Who needed no reason, no pretense, to be there for her. She appreciated that more than she could ever express.

If she could manage to make a new friend, after all these years of living inside her own walls, then perhaps anything was possible. Ruruhi knew it in her heart — she _would_ become a Flame.


End file.
